PHOENIX: Spooks

by Howard, Paul

  *****

  New Beijing Plaza was the tallest building on Wilshire Avenue. At eighty-nine stories, it towered above everything else nearby. Lisa’s office was on the eighty-eighth floor and the elevator ride was a tiringly slow one. The offices of the Benning Corporation occupied the entire floor, and it wasn’t long after they were announced that Lisa received them.

  In person, Sam thought that she was even more impressive than her pictures. Her desk was large and expensive, made of real wood, which was almost impossible to get. Sam toyed in his mind with how much it must’ve cost. Her office was also impressively huge, with plate-glass windows that afforded a view all the way to the ocean. From this height it was easy to pretend that the crushing misery and poverty below was just an illusion.

  She rose as they came in and greeted them politely, if somewhat stiffly. She invited them both to sit down in the overstuffed chairs across from her desk. When she sat back down, she was the first to speak.

  “I never thought I would see you again, Detective White,” she said dryly, “Would you like some coffee?”

  Both answered in unison with White saying “Yes.” and Sam saying “No.” She smiled and pushed the button to speak to the outer office. “Two coffees, and hold my calls.” She leaned back in her seat and clasped her hands expectantly.

  “I wasn’t sure that you’d remember me, Ms. Warren.” White said.

  “Oh, I remember you;” she said softly, “Your testimony at the trial put the rope around my brother’s neck better than any of the other evidence.”

  “That’s my job.” White replied. Lisa’s expression did not change at all.

  “Of course it is,” she answered, “So, how can I help you gentlemen?”

  “We want to know...” White began, but stopped when the secretary entered with the coffee. She smiled as White helped himself and poured in a little cream. He thanked her, and she moved over to serve Lisa. White stirred his coffee slowly. Once she had left, he resumed.

  “We want to know,” he continued, “What you can tell us about your brother.” Lisa held her cup to her lips and took a thoughtful sip.

  “He’s dead!” she replied. “Anything else?” White took a sip of his coffee. It was a real expensive Columbian variety that only the very wealthy could afford to drink. He savored the flavor.

  “Good coffee.” he said. Lisa nodded with forced politeness.

  “I’m glad you like it.” She took another sip and set down the cup, looking very pointedly at White. “Now what do you want from me, Inspector?”

  “I realize this is unpleasant, so we’ll keep this brief,” White replied, “The prison records show that you visited your brother every day during the last few weeks before his execution.” She shrugged and smiled.

  “Is there something unusual in that?” she asked.

  “In a person as busy as you are, a little,” he answered, “Would you mind telling us what you talked to him about during those visits?” Lisa sighed and sat back in her chair.

  “John and I were once very close,” she explained, “When his time was coming I wanted to see him as much as possible. We were the only real family that either of us had.” Sam leaned forward and set his jaw.

  “And yet, you stayed away during the very last days before his execution,” he observed, “Did you have an argument or something?”

  She leaned forward impatiently. She didn’t like the tone of his question. “I was honoring his wishes!”

  “He asked you to stay away?” Sam asked.

  “Yes he did,” she answered, “It was his last request and I honored it. It was one of the hardest things I ever had to do.” White took a long sip of his coffee and never looked up at her on his next statement.

  “It couldn’t have been that hard when you weren’t even on Earth!” he suggested. Now his eyes met hers. “What were you doing up at the Phoenix Asteroid last week?” Lisa smiled and leaned back again, her answer was very measured.

  “I accompanied my Boss, Mr. Lloyd Martin, on a VIP tour of Phoenix.” Sam crossed his arms and grinned.

  “Is he planning on dying soon?” he asked. She grinned sarcastically as she answered him.

  “You would have to ask him.”

  The moment hung there uncomfortably. “You didn’t just come here to get a complimentary cup of coffee. What do you want?”

  “Your brother’s body was stolen from the prison.” White snapped.

  “I know,” she said, “I very upset when the mortuary told me.”

  “Would you like to know what happened to it?” he asked. Her eyes flashed for a moment but they gave away nothing. She leaned forward, her mouth slightly opened.

  “He was infused at Phoenix,” White said, “He’s back here now and killed two people last night.” Now the tension in the office was quite palpable. Her eyes sparkled, but her expression never changed. She just looked at him expectantly. Sam thought she seemed like a cat ready to pounce.

  “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” White asked. She seemed to snap out of it.

  “How could I?” she replied. “If you weren’t police, I would think you were lying as a bad joke. I still can’t believe it. Are you sure about this?”

  To anybody who wasn’t already suspicious, she would have been quite convincing in her tone.

  “We’re sure,” Sam said, “You’re quite a wizard with computers, I hear. It would have taken a genius to tamper with the systems at Phoenix, and you were there, weren’t you?”

  She glared at him but said nothing. She knew they couldn’t prove anything, but she also understood that they knew all the same. The glare turned into an incredulous smile. She was not about to stop playing the game.

  “The system at Phoenix is Centro-algorithmic, and highly proprietary,” she replied, “With all due respect; your question only indicates ignorance, sir.”

  White had played long enough. He knew she wasn’t going to give them anything, so he cut to the matter impatiently. “How do you feel about the things that John did, Ms. Warren?”

  Her face went blank and she stood up slowly, pressing the button to the outside. She glared at White as the secretary entered.

  “These gentlemen are leaving,” Lisa said, “Would you please show them out?” The secretary nodded and moved toward the outer office expecting them to follow. They rose from their chairs and turned to leave.

  “I was appalled Inspector, as anyone would be,” she said to them, “I would appreciate it if you would make an appointment next time.” White turned back to her and stared into her eyes with a patient expression of disbelief.

  “Thanks for the coffee.” he said softly.

  He turned and exited with Sam. A few moments later they were back on the long elevator ride. Sam looked at White for some time before speaking.

  “Well, Lenny,” he asked, “What good did that do?” White looked up at Sam and smirked softly.

  “How does it go, Sam?” he began. “That one may smile, and smile, and still be a villain…”

  “Yoda?” Sam asked.

  “No. Hamlet!”

  “Well, one thing’s for sure,” Sam remarked, “She lied her ass off just now. She tampered with Phoenix and set this whole thing up, whether we can prove it or not!” White was silent for another moment and finally looked up at Sam.

  “Agreed.”

  He put his finger up to his lips and gestured for Sam to say nothing more.

  Chapter Twelve: the Facts of Life

  A few minutes later they were back in the traffic. Sam turned to White, who drove but said nothing.

  “We’ve got enough on suspicion to haul her in right now, Lenny.” he said. White never took his eyes off the street as he answered.

  “Our leads have all dried up,” he replied, “She’s all we have left. She set this thing up, he’s sure to contact her.”

  “If he hasn’t already.” Sam suggested. White turned to him and shook his head.

  “I don’t think so, but he wil
l.” White answered, Sam smiled and nodded his head.

  “A stakeout?” he asked. White nodded.

  “If she scratches her ass we’re gonna know about it,” White answered, “I’ve already called in the team. We start 24/7 as of tonight.”

  Sam nodded with approval. He looked out of the windshield and slapped his leg angrily. “If we chipped our felons like they do in other countries, none of this would be happening.” he snarled. White smirked sarcastically.

  “Land of the Free, partner.’ he replied.

  “Home of the sociologically backward!” Sam added. “Damn Supreme Court. It’s just like that bullshit back in the old days with the Second Amendment. Millions of people who couldn’t even balance a checkbook running around with guns. We had more killings back then than there were in most war zones! Now this shit.”

  “Yeah,” White mused, “How many will he kill?”

  *****

  After the weather crisis gripped the world and man stopped burning fuel for energy, darkness returned to the nights on Earth.

  But not for long.

  Once people stopped listening to the oil barons of the past, they started paying attention to the scientists of the present. Within a few years the Global Transmission Network became a reality and all countries took part in it.

  For a fraction of the predicted cost, a system of thirty-six giant satellites placed in geosynchronous orbit began transmitting clean, endless power from a sun that never shuts off. The cities of Earth twinkled even brighter than before, and no place twinkled brighter than Hollywood.

  Once the entertainment capital of the world, it was now the mecca for vices of every kind.

  “If you can’t find it in Hollywood,” it was said, “The vice didn’t exist.”

  That statement was pretty much true. John Morrison strolled down the boulevard of neon lights and glitzy colors. Glittering signs that had once been printed, were now replaced with ostentatious pictures that required no reading to understand. The usual collection of tourists, free spirits, and weirdoes were everywhere, but he had a specific destination in mind. He had been there before.

  He walked along the Avenue of Stars on Hollywood Boulevard; a worn collection of sidewalk monuments to celebrities long-forgotten. Most people couldn’t read the names anymore, or understand the symbols below them. Many thought that a lot of them must have been famous chefs, because they had a symbol that looked like a strange oven of some kind below their names. Morrison stood on the star of a long-dead cook named Leonard Nimoy and saw the sign he was looking for: two male symbols linked together.

  Don Louie’s was the most popular gay saloon in town and it was a very busy night. Morrison pushed his way to the bar and gave the place a once-over from his vantage point. The bartender stopped and looked at him impatiently.

  “Whisky and soda. Make it a double.”

  It was only a prop. He feared what the consequences would be if he took a sip of the strong liquor, the experience with the breakfast he had eaten had cured him of the desire for that pleasure. At least, he thought to himself, there was one other he could indulge in.

  The place was packed with men of all kinds, both in and out of drag. The bartender brought the drink and Morrison slid his money across the bar. He pretended to lift the drink to his lips and stopped as he spotted someone.

  A lean, white skinned young man with red hair was smiling back at him.

  *****

  The motel room was dark when the door opened, and the two entered it. The young man’s name was Chris, and he switched on the light. Morrison carried a bucket of ice and a champagne bottle. Chris tossed the key on the dresser and looked around. He smiled with approval.

  “It’s not too bad,” he said in his soft, boyish tone, “Why don’t you put that on ice while I get a little more comfortable?”

  Morrison took the bottle and placed it in the bucket of ice on the dresser. Chris got on the bed and started undressing. Morrison’s face was blank as he looked at the video and picked up the remote control.

  He looked at it with his back to Chris, his mind miles away. He suddenly felt a strange surge of emotion and disgust that made him close his eyes, clenching the remote with both of his hands so hard that he almost broke it.

  “Hey,” Chris said, “I’m really comfortable now! Why don’t you come on over here?”

  Morrison snapped out of it and opened his eyes. He turned to the young man, who was in the bed wearing only bikini briefs. He was already aroused. He smiled at Morrison and patted a spot beside him on the bed.

  Morrison sat on the foot of the bed with his back to him. He switched on the video, changing channels until he found the one he was looking for: Ultra Violence.

  Three young toughs were beating a homeless man up very badly. Morrison never took his eyes off of the screen. Chris looked and frowned. “I hate that channel!” he exclaimed. Morrison said nothing. “Is that what turns you on, honey?” Morrison nodded.

  “OK,” he cooed, “I’ll come over there.”

  He moved close to Morrison and nestled beside him, caressing his arms. He moved up to his face and they kissed on the mouth.

  “Why don’t you take off all these clothes?” Chris panted.

  Morrison closed his eyes again. This time he was enjoying the man’s touch. He allowed himself to move back on to the bed, and the young man slid around to face him. He was already quite stimulated and caressed Morrison’s groin, looking deep into his eyes.

  “You have beautiful eyes.” Chris sighed, and they kissed once again. The scene on the video had now changed to a beheading. Morrison broke off the kiss and smiled.

  “A little lower...” he said.

  “Sure, baby.” Chris said and moved down, opening the front of Morrison’s pants and kissing their contents. Morrison concentrated on the video as his partner began to suck on him. The blood splattered in a furious gush as the knife cut through the victim’s throat on the video. Morrison watched the violence, and tried to let his thoughts focus on blood and sexual thoughts.

  His favorite indulgence. But not this time. No matter how hard he tried to let himself go, the thoughts just wouldn’t stay there in his mind. Every sexual image and impulse he tried came to nothing. His mind just could not focus sexually.

  The program broke away for a commercial break. The Phoenix Spot that had been playing for weeks came on. The wife was pruning the garden and talking about her long-lost Fred, and wishing that she had more time with him.

  Chris straightened up with a playful, but disappointed look on his face.

  “I guess I’m losing my touch...” he laughed. Morrison looked down at his flaccid organ and frowned in frustration and disappointment. “That’s O.K. Baby,” Chris said, “It happens to everyone.”

  “Not to me...ever!” Morrison replied. A new thought began to form in his mind “Oh, shit! No...” he said.

  “I know a few more tricks...” Chris laughed. Morrison grabbed him and slammed him down on his back in anger.

  “Whoa! You didn’t tell me you like the rough stuff, honey!” Chris said. He was beginning to sense that he was in real danger. Morrison’s expression had changed into something that frightened him. He turned back to the video as a tear ran down his cheek. The woman was walking away and a man appeared beside her on the beach. Morrison’s eyes welled up in rage.

  “They didn’t tell me!” he cried. “Those motherfuckers didn’t tell me!!” The screen went dark as the commercial ended. He looked back at Chris, who was now terrified. Morrison blurted out another curse.

  “They didn’t fuckin’ tell me! There’s only one thing left,” he screamed, “One thing in the whole world!”

  As he shouted these words, his hands had unconsciously wrapped themselves around Chris’s throat, the young man struggled and scratched at his wrist, blue ooze came out of it instead of blood.

  *****

  The familiar yellow Crime Scene tape cordoned off the area from passers-by. White and Sam lifted it and moved
inside the motel room. Several other officers were moving around, talking to each other and questioning the desk clerk who had found the body. The newcomers moved to the bed where Chris’s mutilated remains were lying.

  The marks of Morrison’s rage were gruesome to look at, even for homicide professionals like the two of them. He was completely covered in blood and his abdomen was cut open. The odor in the room was extremely unpleasant. Sam choked back his breakfast and swallowed hard.

  Another detective, Bill Cornyn, noticed them and came over.

  “A real nasty one, Lenny,” he said, “One of yours, do you think?” White nodded his head and looked over at the desk clerk.

  “The Manager says he checked in here last night with a white male, about thirty-five or so,” Cornyn said, “This guy’s name is Thomkins, Christopher R. His wallet was on the floor full of cash. About three hundred dollars. I hate these fag murder cases!”

  “What about the white male?” White asked. They turned to the desk clerk and walked over to him. He looked up at White curiously; he was very shaken and upset.

  “You said he came in with another man.” White asked. The clerk looked at Cornyn and back at White.

  “Yeah, they were friendly,” he answered and shrugged, “You know.”

  “Would you recognize the other man?” White asked. “Did you get a good look at his face?”

  The clerk nodded. White pulled a photo of Morrison out of his pocket and showed it to him. The clerk swallowed hard and nodded.

  “That’s him.” he said.

  Sam’s face went pale. He turned back to the body on the bed. There was something green protruding out of his rectum, but he couldn’t make it out.

  “What’s he got stickin’ out of his ass?” he asked. Cornyn moved next to him and shook his head.

  “A champagne bottle,” he replied, “We should get good prints off of that. I’m glad I’m not doing the forensics on this one.” White moved next to Sam and whispered.

  “Do you remember the Williams Case?” Sam turned to him. The connection registered at once.

  “The hammer!” Sam said slowly. White moved over to the body and began to look it over closely. His attention shifted to Chris’s hands. He pulled a pen out of Sam’s coat pocket and took a small tissue from his own. Sam leaned in closer to see what White was looking at.